fabricated equilibrium
by the Chronic Meltdown
Summary: When the door next opens, Chie doesn't look up, because if it had been Yukiko, she would have felt it, and since it isn't, she doesn't care. Post P4. SoujiNaoto, ChieYukiko.


fabricated equilibrium

_Prologue_

When the door next opens, Chie doesn't look up, because if it were Yukiko, she would have felt it, and since it isn't, she doesn't care. Instead, she continues scribbling on the pages of her book, filling up blank spaces with nonsense because the teacher never really bothers to correct it anyway. And anyway, there are only three weeks left until graduation. After that, none of it will matter.

"Chie-senpai?"

She looks up involuntarily, pausing in her half-baked words and bullshit explanations. It's Rise, after all, and Rise is important. The girl has grown older, even more beautiful than she'd been before, and has decided to return to full-time show business after her own graduation. She still works on commercials during weekends, though, and has received several offers for movie and TV show contracts, all of which she has said no to, and anyway, it still feels terribly strange to Chie. Their friendship, that is. Because Rise is so popular, she's Risette, and, really, the only thing that had initially held them together is long gone.

Just like Souji.

Sometimes, they'd all found themselves wishing it would start over again, just so that he would return to them.

So Chie- she doesn't really want to see her.

And it's not that Rise's unimportant, but, really, when it comes to moments like these, when she's feeling the way she's feeling right now, the only person she wants is Yukiko. That, above everything else, is supremely clear to her. Even if she doesn't exactly know why.

She answers anyway. "Oh, hey, Rise-chan. What's up?"

Rise grins in that little, lilting way of hers before dropping down beside her. The sun is setting, and they should be walking home by now, but some things never change. Even if you _are_ missing an important piece of the puzzle. She misses Souji a lot. He'd been her confidant. And if she were to be completely honest with herself, she'd have to admit that she'd been a little bit in love with him.

But everyone had been a little bit in love with Souji. Even Yosuke, though he would never, ever admit to it.

So Rise smiles in a shaky, nervous way, but there is also an almost jittery excitement lurking beneath the surface. A dash of hope. Something Chie finds scary in a distant, abstract way.

As though her subconscious knows that something bad is coming, while she, in the here and the now, remains entirely unaware. It is a shark lurking beneath the surface of water, smiling pleasantly as the bleeding human swims nearer to it. Treacherous in an entirely inconspicuous way.

"Chie-senpai…" The girl pauses again, swallowing dryly, before moving to take a seat beside her and twisting to face her. She wrings her hands, twists her fingers, and licks her lips, and sunlight reflects off the moisture.

And Chie isn't sure why, but she's thinking of satellites, then, spinning in the air, perceiving light and moisture although miles away. Orbiting.

Chie likes things that orbit.

So Rise sits beside her, and shifts to face her, and licks her lips so that sunlight reflects off moisture; and then she says, "I like someone."

Surprise flits across Chie's face, resounds throughout her stomach, until the only thing she's thinking is, _'Don't let it be Kanji-kun. He already likes Naoto, who likes Souji-kun, but-'_

"Really? Who?" Is what comes out of her mouth instead.

But the conversation takes a turn for the unexpected.

Because Rise swallows, again, and, with eyes shining, brimming over with jittery energy, asks, "Have you ever wanted to date a girl?"

By which point Chie's stomach is rolling on the floor after having done back flips, and the question is so random it catches her completely off guard. If she hadn't already been sitting down, she would have dropped like a sack of potatoes. But instead, she blinks, startled, and, looking as though someone has just offered to slap her with a fish in exchange for five dollars, she balks.

"What?"

And the only thing she's thinking is, _'Please don't let it be me.'_

Rise flushes, which surprises Chie to a further extent. And then the younger girl laughs nervously, and the eighteen year old blinks again, because she's never exactly seen her look so awkward before.

"Well, I was just wondering…y'know?" She says, and looks away, in the direction of the sun.

Rise's very pretty, popular, and likable. Chie wonders.

"Who is it?"

'_Please. Please. Don't say that it's me.'_

The curiosity's killing her, though. The curiosity's about to drive her crazy.

So when Rise looks at her, all soft curves and skin and something that is completely female, with long lashes and curling hair  
_(Yukiko has long eyelashes, too, but her eyes are darker, much darker, full of something strange and twisted, but that's only the Yukiko in her shadow's imagination and-)  
_and- Rise's beautiful, she is, and it makes her nervous, now.

Chie is nervous, now. For reasons she doesn't understand.

And then she says it.

And it's not her.

It's her antipode.

Where she is straight lines and jumping jacks, the girl Rise thinks of is soft curves and smooth surfaces. Where the girl who wears red is used to tea sets and charming replies, she would shatter cups and hearts with baseball bats and kung fu moves. Where she has a normal sense of humor, the girl they both think of is eccentric, suffering from fits of laughter that single her out in a crowd.

The girl they both think of is beautiful and flawed. And perhaps because of that, perfect.

"It's Yukiko-senpai."

But Rise doesn't know who Chie thinks of, and Chie doesn't know why she thinks of whom she thinks of.

So it surprises her when she feels light-headed, as though she's standing at the edge of a precipice, about to fall.

**A/N:**

This is purely SoujiNaoto and ChieYukikoRise. I dunno why I added Rise into that. But, seriously. No one's ever done it. I will. Triangles for the win.


End file.
